Ribbons: Episode 0
by JustAnotherBri
Summary: (Re-upload:Sinnoh) Bernie, a pokephobic baker, learns about herself and overcomes her fears with the help of an old flame and a devious little Chimchar.
1. Chapter 1

I think of the world in terms of ribbons.

Each person has their own, invisible to the normal eye. A ribbon could be bright yellow, waving lazily to the movement of its own personal wind. Or a blushing pink, draped tenderly around the shoulders of others as if to comfort. Or maybe black as night, wrapped tightly around the throat of its master. Each ribbon is different and portrays all the emotions, thoughts, and natural inclinations of a person.

Ribbons, because of their natural ebb and flow, tend to tangle themselves to others. The tightest knots are the ones that have been tied together the longest. But even the tautest of knots can snap if the right pressure is applied to them. They can be snipped as if by a scissor, and rarely do those ever meet again. Then there are others that travel long distances, spanning miles—sometimes regions—away. Still they stretch to keep themselves tightly bound to each other.

The world, if anyone could see its entirety on this plain of existence, is a ball of tightly wound ribbons. Yet I have not met any other person who could see these ribbons. I wish someday I could meet such a person so that he or she could see my ribbon, the one I can only catch a glimpse of out of the corner of my eye, and tell me what they see. Maybe then, through the appearance of my ribbon, will I truly know Myself.

The day my life totally changed began fairly normally. I woke up at dawn, just as faint blue light filtered into my room. I spent the first four minutes of my morning getting ready for the day by brushing my teeth and hair and throwing on a shirt and jeans. I ate my usual toast with Pecha berry jam and a glass of Moo-Moo Milk, then I headed out the door, an umbrella in hand—because you can never know when it will rain. As I walked down the street I put my hat on to help my already applied SPF 100 sunscreen protect me from the harsh sunlight, which was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Then I checked my bag for the usual, making sure I didn't forget anything. Extra toothpaste and a toothbrush in case I wanted something garlicky for lunch, a little first aid kit—cuz you just never know—sanitizer, extra sunscreen for reapplication, a packet of hair ties, extra socks and a rollup pair of flats, and finally money in a wallet with a single picture of myself and the most important people in the world to me, my best friend Tris, and my brother Jared.

Jared smiled at me through the plastic casing, encouraging me to get through my day. I nodded and smiled, promising I would.

I missed my brother these days. He got a job just a route over in a place called Sandgem Town. He worked with the esteemed Professor Rowan as an assistant. Jared wanted to become a breeder specializing in steel types. He worked a lot these days, and was often out adventuring around the world to help Professor Rowan. There was a time or two when I considered visiting him myself but then I remembered I wouldn't get very far.

You see, I don't like Pokémon. I'm actually absolutely terrified of them. I'm an anomaly. Most people deal with Pokémon on a daily basis, my goal in life is to avoid them. It makes it even more of a conundrum when my whole family works closely with Pokémon. My brother traveled many of his young years as a trainer, battling and adventuring, my mother worked the majority of her life as an assistant to Nurse Joy in Sandgem Town's Pokémon Center after she reached her dream of becoming an esteemed coordinator in the Sinnoh Region, and my Granny was a former Champion of the Sinnoh Region.

My mom tells me she's not sure when my aversion to Pokémon started, but she noticed at a very young age I would avoid anything and everything Pokémon. As I got older I became worse. My poképhobia advanced so far that I was once reduced to a blubbering shaking creature when I was cornered by a well-meaning Chansey. In the past year I've been able to overcome some hurdles of my phobia. Now I can be across the room from a Pokémon with only minor loss of breath, sweaty palms, and a mild case of the jitters.

It's not the Pokémon's fault. I just have an irrational fear of them. Do I wish I could be in the same room with a Pokémon and not freak? Of course. Do I wish I could have a friendship with one of them? Hell yeah. Do I wish I wasn't picked on because of my strange fear? More than anything.

The bakery was a simple place. Lots of light, a little area for customers to enjoy coffee and pastries, and a large enough baking area for my boss, his two kids, and myself, to comfortably work in. But I definitely had to admit, Four Cakes was quite a bit grungy. The lights on the ceiling were foggy, the lights in the display cases no longer worked, the oven was at least fifty years old, and the walls were in need of a fresh coat of paint. And yet it was a sanctuary for me. Four Cakes was the only business in town that did not have Pokémon working alongside the owners. Occasionally a Pokémon would walk in with a customer and I would take care to hide in the back room until my boss finished helping them. Later I would reappear like a Ditto coming out of his hole—which, I suppose, isn't the best analogy considering.

Right now though, we'd not yet opened. I was prepping the shop while Dan, my boss, was out to get some of the extra supplies we needed. I busied myself with the bread, sliding the already baked loaves out of the dinosaur oven and placing them in baskets on the shelves behind the counter. The smell of fresh baked bread is the absolute best smell in my opinion. It helped to calm and prep me for a busy day of work.

I continued on with the work at hand when I heard the back door open.

"Hi Tris," I called. Tris was Dan's younger son. His oldest worked in a bank in town-being a baker was not something he'd ever strived for; he hoped for a bigger cash pot. Tris though was still a year shy from graduating. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do with his life. All he knew was that he would not take charge of the bakery alone. Tris believed he didn't have the patience to run the bakery. _Or the maturity._ I thought.

Tris was known in town as a major bad boy. He spent most of his free time playing pranks, and just all together goofing off. I personally loved him for his dry, albeit sometimes offensive, humor because it usually brightened my day and gave me a good laugh. Unfortunately, others weren't so appreciative. Let's just say Tris and Officer Jesse knew each other very well.

"Tris?" I called again when he didn't appear. The front door's bell clanged musically. I turned ready to tell whoever it was to leave and come back when we were open. Looking up I saw, to my astonishment, Tris looking tired as hell. His hair was in a disarray, and his clothes were muddy.

"What happened to you?" I asked running over to him with the wet rag I'd been using to clean the front counter. I wiped some of the dirt off his face. He was leaning against one of the few lopsided tables in the front of the bakery breathing hard, like he'd ran the marathon of his life.

"I got into a little bit of trouble," he said between pants. I stopped wiping down his face.

"What kind of trouble?" I gave him the Look. He peeked at me from the corner of his eye not daring to glance at me for more than a second. He knew the Look meant bad things.

"That doesn't matter right now. I've got to hide before he finds me." Tris stood up shakily.

"Yeah you're right. I think your dad's here," I said, thinking again about the backdoor, "If he sees you like this, you'll be in so much trouble." I looked at a scrape along his arm that was welling blood. Remembering the first aid kit in my bag, I dashed behind the counter.

"No Bernie. Not from my dad. I have to hide from…" I was so preoccupied with my first aid kit that I didn't even hear him. I didn't notice when he stopped mid-sentence, and the little shuffling sounds behind me only registered in my brain seconds after they stopped. It wasn't until I found my first aid kit and looked over at Tris that I realized something was wrong. He was staring up over my shoulder with a wide eyed look. I froze.

"What?" I whispered. Very few things could make Tris look terrified like that.

"Don't move," he whispered back. But of course, just like the girls in horror movies, I did the exact opposite of his instruction. I spun around and there it was. Sure he was only a few feet high, and sure at any other given time most people would have thought he was the most adorable thing since the invention of the plushy. But when I saw him a cold dread hardened and stopped my heart.

Just two feet away from me was a Chimchar. He looked furious, his teeth bared in a manic scowl. His little body was shaking and radiating heat. But this wasn't your run of the mill Chimchar. He looked battle worn. A scar the length of my pointer finger was cut into his forehead just above his right eye. A chunk of his left ear was missing, torn away by what I could only imagine was a beast just as terrible and terrifying as the one I was staring in the face. Even one of his fangs was chipped slightly (from eating boulders perhaps?)

 _He's gonna hurt Tris!_ I don't know what changed inside me in that second as I realized Tris was in danger. I don't know where I pulled the sudden and very foreign bravery from. I especially don't know why in my right mind I thought that jumping in front of a very angry Chimchar was a good idea. But I did it, much to my and Tris's amazement. I have no recollection of moving, I only realized I was standing in front of Tris, limbs spread wide, as the Chimchar sprang from where he was standing high up on the shelves. I shut my eyes, ready to face the pain ahead.

I felt myself shaking. My heart sped to a running pace, pulsing in my ears. I listened for the sound of a Pokémon's cry but all I heard was the gasp from Tris behind me. I balled up my fists, digging my fingers so hard into my palms that I felt blood seep down my hand and onto the floor. It was so quiet I heard the little _pish_ sound of each drop on the linoleum tile. I stood there for what felt like a lifetime wondering why this bloodthirsty creature had not already rid me of my pitiful life. I slowly opened my eyes.

The Chimchar was just inches away from my face, perched by his feet on top of a chair. He was looking at me with something like confusion. This close up the ragged scar across his forehead was intimidating, the chunk missing from his ear was absolutely terrifying. But he did nothing to hurt me.

"Bern." Tris reached for my hand and tried to pull me toward him, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. Could Pokémon do that, paralyze you with a single look? The Chimchar looked down at Tris's hand then back at me. He raised one of his hands toward me. I stiffened. His hand paused. He continued to look at me, using what seemed to be caution. He blinked a few times and continued to reach forward.

The Chimchar placed a single finger on the tip of my nose stirring from me a little girlish squeak. He tipped his head to the side watching every emotion that flashed across my face with startling intensity. He placed a palm against my cheek. He was so gentle, the warm callouses of his palm just barely touching my skin.

I couldn't move my eyes away from his. With the passing seconds and the dawning realization that this frightening creature seemed to have no intention of hurting me, I began to watch his face as well. I observed the subtle hints of his features which allowed me to read his emotions. I especially watched his eyes. I saw something in them that broke my heart.

First was the anger. It was something so fierce and frightening that I was sure my heart must have stopped for ten seconds in the least. But the anger quickly melted into nostalgia and hurt and suffering. That one look told me so much about this Pokémon, and allowed me to see his aura, a twirling, chaotic thing. The thin red ribbon flew around him moving every which way, jerking left then right, then left again. It looked exhausting, all that constant, enraged, pained emotion.

Something changed inside me. Suddenly this new ribbon was tied onto my own, and I could feel everything the Chimchar's ribbon held. The sorrow, the betrayal, the anger, pain, and above all, the loneliness. I felt the emotions like they were my own as they overwhelmed my body, taking up the whole of my heart and leaking deep into my bones. How this little Chimchar could feel so much emotion was beyond me, but it was there seeping from him in deep blood red.

"Tris, Bernie? You guys there?" It was Dan's voice coming from the back room. The Chimchar stiffened and broke his gaze from mine. Before I could tell what was happening he was gone, his emotions tore away from my body. I cried out in pain, gripping my chest. Then I blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time ever, I decided to leave work early. Of course I didn't have much of a choice with the state I was in. After blacking out I woke to wobbly legs and a fuzzy head. Dan made Tris walk me home while he opened up the shop. My guess was that he wasn't too happy with his son. Now Tris stood in front of my house shuffling his feet while I fumbled for my keys. My hands were still shaking making it difficult but, after a few long breathes and a lot of concentration, I controlled them long enough to let myself inside. Tris came in right behind me.

My initial thought after walking into my house was to tidy up. Put away my bag, jacket, and the umbrella I didn't need, and to obsessively fidget with things around my house. Like the painting above my couch that was just a sixteenth of an inch out of place. But, almost too exhausted to even think about doing anything, I threw my bag against the wall and let myself fall back into the couch, ignoring the painting above my head.

I noticed Tris looking sullen and awkward just inside the open door. _That's weird_. It wasn't like Tris to be shy. The way he usually acted, this house belonged to him. It wasn't uncommon for me to walk into my living room and be greeted by an uninvited Tris lounged on the couch, feet on the coffee table, and containers of vanished leftovers spread out around him. He'd even spent many nights avoiding his dad in my house; out like a light in my spare bedroom before the sun even set below the horizon.

"You can come sit if you want," I told him. They were foreign words, words that were never needed to be said to Tris, but I could hardly care less at that moment. I laid my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes. Really all I wanted was some quiet so I could better calm myself down. My body was still shaking, and my head was spinning. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been that close to any Pokémon, let alone one that was about to attack anyone. But, in the end, he didn't attack anyone. _I wonder why he stopped_.

"Nah. Thanks, but I think I have to get back to the bakery to get yelled at some." Tris heaved the heaviest sigh I'd ever heard.

"Okay. Tell your dad I said not to be too hard on you," I called.

"Will do." All I heard was silence, no click of the door closing, no footsteps as he walked down the stone path. But truly, I was so tired that I couldn't even force myself to wonder what he was doing. The soft cushions of my white couch were all I could think about.

"Hey…Bernie Girl?" I peeked one eye open and looked over where Tris stood by the open door. He was looking down, a hand still on the doorknob, a section of his long dark hair flopping down over his face. That hair was getting pretty interesting these days. He'd shaved the sides completely and let just the top grow out. Today he was wearing it up in a ponytail. I personally thought it was a ridiculous look—especially since it was just another way he was trying to rebel against his dad. He was always attempting to piss his dad off. The first time with his pierced ear, then the piercing in his eyebrow. The real kicker was the tattoo on his arm—the face of a rampaging Gyarados. Tris got hell when he showed up at the bakery, after having been missing for two days, with a fresh tattoo displayed on his arm. I was personally amazed at the shade of red Dan's face turned when Tris informed him that a sixteen year old amateur inked him in an alley behind a tattoo shop in Jubilife. Dan refused to talk to him for weeks after that one.

Granted, most of the time Dan didn't even notice his son's metamorphosis from the sweet looking little kid I once knew, to the slightly scary young man he was turning into. He was one tattoo shy of becoming a gang member in my book. But his dad didn't have too many free days lately, and his brother, Danny, wasn't likely to care enough to notice things like that. He barely even saw his father and brother, and they lived just two streets away. Suddenly I felt bad for Tris. He was a good kid mostly, he just lacked role models to show him the way. They were all too busy.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Thanks…Thanks for standing up for me. I know your deal with Pokémon, but you tried to save me anyway." I don't think Tris could look any more awkward at that second. He rolled his eyes, "Geez, a girl had to protect me from a little Chimchar."

"Girls can do anything boys can do you know. I can be a knight in shining armor too." I giggled at the thought.

"Does that make me the princess then?" Tris's amused smile was brief and fleeting. His grip on the doorknob tightened. He turned his head to look at me with his bright blue eyes. They had an intensity to them I'd never noticed before. "It won't happen again, I promise."

"Sure thing kid," I said, shocked by the seriousness behind his statement-Tris never took anything seriously. He nodded and turned to leave but stopped midway.

"And one more thing. I'm not a kid anymore Bern. You don't need to treat me like one," He said it with his back turned to me. He paused for a second or two, expecting me to respond. I said nothing. That was enough for him, I suppose, because he walked out, closing the door behind him.

That was…interesting. But I guess he was right. Tris was seventeen now and he wasn't much younger than me. We only had an age difference of two years. I guess I'd just always thought of him as a kid because I was always the one protecting him when we were younger.

Neither of us had many friends growing up. I was the weirdo who didn't like Pokémon and he was the punk who always acted out. No one wanted their kids hanging out with someone always getting into trouble. At school we stuck together pretty often, though I was two grades ahead of him. We protected each other from the bullies, but more often than not I was protecting him from the kids who had grudges on him. They were always pulling pranks on him, laughing at him under their breath as he passed in the hall. They made fun of him because his family was a little poorer than the rest, and because his mom walked out on him and the rest of his family when he was just a little kid. They told him she left because of him. We shared that struggle-my father walked out on us before I was even born. I was always the one to tell him they were wrong, that she was the one who made that choice, and she was crazy for it.

I could see why he might not want me to do that anymore though. He was older, and it was probably embarrassing for a girl to protect him. It wasn't like he really needed it these days. He was taller than me by at least a foot, and somewhere around eighty pounds heavier. He'd been in his own share of fights too. He wasn't a stranger at taking a punch anymore and he was quickly become a master at throwing them. It would be hard but I'd have to respect his…um…masculinity? I couldn't help but giggle.


	3. Chapter 3

After a hot shower I felt a little bit better. I scrubbed my cheek especially hard right where the Chimchar had touched me and nursed the self inflicted wounds on my palms. Stepping out of the bathroom, I realized I was pretty hungry. My stomach was growling louder than a Mightyena with a bad attitude. I sauntered off to the kitchen wrapped in my warm fuzzy robe and soft pink slippers.

The house was a little chilly. As I walked into the kitchen I realized why. The window was propped open, letting in the cool afternoon breeze. I couldn't remember opening the window, but I suppose I was a little out of my mind from this morning. I probably just opened it without realizing. I closed it absentmindedly as I thought about what I would make for lunch. A stew would be comforting. Or some soup.

The process of making lunch took my mind off of the morning's events. I went to work right away, dicing up vegetables for a nice minestrone. Just like the time I put into my baking skills I worked very hard to be a good cook. Food was my life, it was something to distract me from the bullying and the whispers and to gain the approval of the people who enjoyed my products. It was one of the few things I was good at.

While the vegetables sautï¿½ed in the pot I turned to the fridge to grab some homemade vegetable broth. I looked at the date at the top of the plastic container. Damn. It was already a few weeks old, probably spoiled. I looked back at the pot longingly, wondering what to do with all those sautï¿½ing vegetables, only to realize they were no longer there.

The whole pot was gone, the burner still going steadily. I quickly shut it and spun around, looking for the pot. It was nowhere in sight.

"What the hell." I put a hand to my head and leaned against the counter. Was I crazy? I was so sure I'd put those veggies there to sautï¿½e. Could I have imagined it? No, the chopping board and knife were in the sink of soapy water, both orange from the carrots.

I heard the bang of metal coming from somewhere in the house. I jumped, my hand went to my heart as it raced. Slightly shaking I moved away from the counter and walked toward the living room which was partially hidden from the kitchen by a wall. I heard the metal sound again. Like a pot banging against something sturdy. A bookshelf, which occupied the whole of one wall, held a mirror right in the center, going from the ceiling to the floor. In it I could make out the pot in question lying upside down on the ground. Nothing that I could see through the mirror was near it so I walked into the room. Without thinking, I grabbed the pot and looked inside to realize it was completely empty... _and still scalding hot._ My hand burned fiery red.

I threw the pot away from myself, gripping my wrist with my other hand. The pot flew across the room and banged against the opposite wall, just a foot from the couch. I threw it with enough force that the pot made a dent in the perfect white paint and, to my great annoyance, turned the painting above even more askew. But these were all secondary thoughts. At the forefront of my mind was the sound that came after the pot hit the wall.

It was the distinct cry of something very inhuman. It was high, it was loud, and it got my heart racing even faster. I gaped at the couch, backtracking until my back hit the bookcase. The bookcase shuddered slightly from the impact, and I heard something small roll. It tumbled off the bookcase and shattered loudly on the ground. It was followed by that sound again, the one that wasn't human, and in seconds I was racing out of the room wanting more than anything to get away.

Whatever was behind the couch didn't get the hint. I heard something leave the room behind me. A flash of orange raced by and dodged into the kitchen, hiding behind the island in the middle of the room before I could get a good look at it. But I already had my suspicions. I stopped mid run and stared warily at the kitchen.

Very slowly the Pokï¿½mon peaked his orange head from behind the island, staring at me with grey eyes. I wasn't sure that my heart could beat any faster at that moment, but it surprised me. My heart was a machine, pumping fear through my body, freezing me in place as the Chimchar slowly and cautiously climbed over the table and paused at the edge. He was just five feet away from me, his eyes staring at me, not with anger or suspicion but curiosity and interest. Even though I could see this, I also couldn't help but see the wound across his forehead or the chunk missing from his ear, both of which gave him a dangerous air despite the innocent eyes. Not to mention he was a Pokï¿½mon. That alone scared the crap out of me.

The Chimchar reached out one hand. He was looking at my own hand, which was still stinging pretty badly and bandaged to hell from our early meeting. I'd drawn it to my chest, my other still clutching at my wrist. He brushed my injured hand. His was pleasantly warm, a little rough, I assumed, because of calluses. His hand, when I looked at just his hand, looked almost human. Four fingers, a thumb, and they were almost a normal flesh color. He was gentle, like he didn't want to frighten me more than I already was. But I still couldn't help it, I squeaked out a scared little cry. He moved away though I didn't, I was still frozen in place. He cocked his head to one side, looking at my face, then he looked again at my hand.

In a second he was gone, moving too fast for me to really process it. My mind was moving slowly, frozen like my body in a state of shock. He was back before I could process what he was doing. He was looking at me again, his face hopeful this time, and outstretched his hand. This time he didn't touch me with it. There was something in his hand; a wet dish towel, dripping slightly onto my spotless floor. I stared at the towel, confused and still afraid. This seemed to agitate the Chimchar. He chattered at me, waving the rag slightly. My mind was still snailing behind, and my body was a rock, unmoving except for my racing heart. My reaction to the towel, or lack thereof, annoyed the Chimchar.

He rushed forward and grabbed my hand, then, more gently than before, he placed the towel on my skin. I assumed the towel had been cold just a few seconds ago. Now it was warm from the heat coming off of the Chimchar's body. It still felt nice against my burning skin, and I sighed slightly in relief. The Chimchar was pleased.

Before I could do anything to stop him, he jumped off the table and danced around the kitchen, chattering loudly. He jumped from counter top to counter top and swung from the cabinets. Unknowingly in his joy, he knocked things off the counter and the cabinets including my coffee pot, my favorite cookie jarï¿½which shattered on the floorï¿½my recipe book and a whole tin of flour. By the time I came back to my senses my kitchen was snow white and littered with little sharp things and scattered recipes.

 _Not my spotless kitchen!_ My OCD mind over took my pokefobia and I raced to the other side of the island.

"Stop!" I yelled, throwing out my burned hand, the towel still gripped between my fingers.

The Chimchar immediately froze and fell from where he was clinging to the cabinets right into the sudsy sink. It was his turn to yell. He jumped out of the sink while chattering angrily. He was running around the kitchen again, this time picking up all the various things he knocked over. The flour and recipes around the kitchen stuck to him, making him even angrier until, to my horror, he hopped down from the island and landed right on the floor where shards of the cookie jar lay menacingly. I barely hand time to utter a warning, all of this happened so fast-in the matter of seconds. His reaction was even faster. I had barely enough time to see the shock and pain on his face before he was out of the room, just a flash of orange once again.

I don't know why years of being absolutely scared of Pokï¿½mon suddenly just flew out the door, but in that second, when I registered the quick flash of pain on that Chimchar's face, I knew I couldn't just stand there. My reaction was instant. I ran out of the room and grabbed the first aid kit from under my sink in the bathroom, ignoring the pain I felt when the textured handle rubbed up against the raw skin of my palm. It was a more professional version of the kit I carried in my bag for work, something my mother made me keep in the house and restocked as needed.

I found him just as quickly, curled up in a corner of my own room. Looking at him gave me pause. What was I doing? This was a Chimchar! I was scared half to death by himï¿½or I usually would be. I realized the pause was more of a knee jerk reaction this time, something like riding a bike, or breathing. It was just something I naturally did because I'd always paused when there was a Pokï¿½mon involved. But there was no fear in me now. All I saw was an innocent creature in pain.

I sat down beside the Chimchar. He didn't look up. He had his face buried in his hands. I saw where he'd been hurt. Right at his knee was a little shard of pottery lodged in his skin. Then I smiled to myself. It was barely even a flesh wound. Judging by the cut on his forehead and his missing chunk of ear, he'd been through much worse. But I humored him.

Very gently, as he peered at me through his fingers, I took a pair of tweezers from out of my bag and pulled the shard out of his leg. He shuddered delicately. I went through the process. I cleaned the cut with a potionï¿½ trying my best to ignore how the Chimchar hissed a little when the medicine stung himï¿½and got a band aid right over the spot. Chimchar didn't move as I put my things away. He stayed curled up against the wall, his fingers hiding his whole face except for one eye. He was a sad sight suddenly. So vulnerable and weak looking, soaking wet, covered in flour and bits of recipes.

"Don't worry," I said, "you're okay now. That wasn't so bad right?" I tried to mimic that voice my mother used when she was patching me up as a clumsy child; low and slow with all the sweetness of a tablespoon and a half of sugar. He looked down at the band aid and brushed it with one hand. It had a pattern on Chimchars on it. He let out a weird sound. Something like the cross between a human and a Pokï¿½mon's high screeching careen. I leaned away from him, my heart beating fast again. Did I piss him off? Was he going to attack me? I watched the smile on his face and the way his body shook slightly, then realized. _Is he giggling?_ My heart slowed and softened.

"Do you like your band aid?" He chattered at me and jumped onto the ground to dance around in place. His reaction reminded me of a baby. He was easily pleased by things. And just as easily angered by them. His emotions flip flopped back and forth so quickly it was hard to keep track of them. I supposed Chimchar was the first evolve before Monfero and Infernape. Maybe he _was_ a baby. But if he was, where was his family? Did he run away? And why did he have such serious scars like he'd been through quite a few tough battles?

Without any permission from me Chimchar walked over to my first aid kit and threw it open. I let out a sound of protest but he ignored me and started to throw things out of the kit, littering my room with band aids and alcohol wipes. He finally picked out what he was looking for. It was the same band aid he had on with the little print of dancing Chimchars. He pointed to it and giggled again, then took off the wrappings. He leaned toward me and stuck it onto my knee, then pointed to his own. I stared at him in amazement. I couldn't help but smile.

"We're matching now," I said. He giggled happily and danced around, kicking the different first aid supplies he'd thrown onto the floor. Clouds of flour flew off of him as the water finally began to evaporate. More quickly than I thought he would be, he was dry, maybe because happiness increased his internal body temperature. Suddenly he was just a ball of fur and flour, and the flour made its way off of him and around my room as he danced about. As he jumped on my bed he shook of the last of the flour, now completely free of it. I sucked in a breath.

"You sure do make a mess don't you?" I said. He paused in his dancing and looked around the room, suddenly realizing the chaos he was creating. He looked at me with wide innocent eyes and chattered an apologyï¿½or I assumed it was an apology. I looked around at my formerly pristine room and thought of my kitchen. I sighed. This was not going to be fun.

"Well, you could help me at least. Do you want to put all those first aid supplies away?" He chattered happily and jumped down off my bed and began the task I set for him. I watched him for a little while, interested in the way he used caution to put everything back into the first aid kit. I ignored the fact that everything from the band aids to the pain killers were covered in a thin layer of flour. Instead I watched him enjoy his task. He seemed to think carefully about where everything went in the box, matching up the different band aids and putting the right pain killers in the proper bottles. He tried to eat one at one point, but I was quick enough to take it out of his hand and explain to him it wasn't food. While he continued with his task I set about cleaning up myself. I took the comforter off my bed and threw it into the washing machine, then grabbed the vacuum and sucked up the rest of the flour on the ground.

Chimchar didn't seem to like the vacuum. He hissed and jumped away from it when I turned it on, the task I'd given him forgotten. I let him climb onto the top of the dresser while I vacuumed up, and coaxed him down when I was done. We put the first aid supplies away together and moved onto the kitchen. I refused to let him pick up any of the shards on the ground. I did it for him then let him sweep up the flour off the floor. The recipes he'd scattered were pretty damaged. Many of them were torn or wet, most of them were indiscernible. I threw them away, knowing I had most of them memorized anyway. Together we had the kitchen clean and pristine in minutes. We were both exhausted, and after a quick Pecha berry break, he let himself into the living room. When I walked in behind him, he was already asleep, curled up into a ball on the couch, his tail flame extinguished.

I leaned against the wall for a little bit watching him sleep, marveling at my sudden nonchalance. His presence in the room did nothing to make me anxious. I watched him like I would watch a baby sleeping, with protectiveness and silent wonder. He was so innocent in sleep that even his scars did nothing to make my heart flutter in distress. I speculated briefly why that was.

Growing up my pokephobia was so bad I refused to have Pokemon plushies because I would stay up at night, eyeing them to be sure they didn't animate suddenly and attack me. But his little Chimchar, so wild and yet so sweet, already had my heart. I felt it, warm in my chest, beating at a normal pace but to a new rhythm. It was like a switch was suddenly flipped inside of me, making me immune to my former fears. Were my fears just pardoned for Chimchar, or was I unafraid of other Pokï¿½mon as well? My relatives would say we would have to find out; test my new bravery. But even the thought of a test sent my heart fluttering. I guessed the results wouldn't be positive.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a knock at the door. I glanced out the window. It was pitch black outside, obviously very late at night. _I wonder who that could be?_

I made my way to the door. Chimchar stayed on the couch, snoring lightly, oblivious to the sudden guest. I leaned against the door, listening for someone on the other side.

"Who is it?" I called, loud enough for the person to hear but hopefully not loud enough to wake Chimchar. His breathing remained the same steady pace, though he did scratch his nose with one little paw.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me for the password?" A voice called from the other side. I paused, startled, but then a smile spread fast and wide across my face.

"Password," I said, humoring him.

"Pecha Berries." Before he was done with the first word I threw the door open and ran at him. I crushed him in a big bear hug, my smile getting wider.

"Jared! God I missed you!" I said, almost whispering, the sleeping Chimchar still absorbing half my mind. I felt more than heard the laugh Jared let out. His chest shook, and his arms wrapped around my comparatively small frame.

"I missed you too little sis," he said. I leaned away to get a good look at him. Two eyes, two ears, a nose and mouth, two arms, two legs, no visible scars and/or wounds. He looked virtually unharmed. This was almost a ceremony at this point.

As soon as I saw my brother again after our long absences away from each other I made it a point to check that he was unharmed. It was a dangerous world out there, even more dangerous for those who travelled, and that was always a big concern for me when it came to my brother. I was afraid that he would come home mortally wounded, or that he would never come home again, gobbled by the big cruel world out there, away from the safety of Twinleaf. Though I made it a point never to complain to my brother through words about my worries, he knew they were there. He saw it in my eyes and the way I clung to him whenever he came home, afraid to let him out of my sight, afraid that every glance at him would be my last. He never complained either. Never once did he even address my fears, knowing how stubborn I was. It was not easy to sway my convictions once I had them in my brain.

"Come in," I said, once I'd assessed his health. I opened the door wide for him. As Jared walked in one of his silver eyebrows raised in a silent question. It was then that I remembered the mess that was still on the floor in the living room. I looked over, suddenly interested in what it was that shattered during the early part of my confrontation with Chimchar.

It was a crystal flower, or what had once been a crystal flower. Now it lay in a million little pieces on the ground. I felt a quick and fleeting pang of sadness, remembering the person who'd given it to me. Gold hair and a cocky little smile flashed briefly in my mind's eye. I could still sense the aura. A bright yellow ribbon, waving with vigor and grace in a controlled pattern. But I was good at burying bad memories, even the ones I sometimes wanted to relive. I pushed the thoughts out of my head.

I kept it in the back of my mind to clean the glass before Chimchar woke. I couldn't have him stepping on that and having another little episode. The babble in my head only made me remember the Chimchar curled up on my couch. I wondered suddenly what my brother would make of that.

I looked over at Jared right before his eyes swept over to the couch. I watched as his face transformed from mildly amused interest to complete and utter shock as he took in Chimchar sleeping like a rock. He looked at me, then back to Chimchar, then back at me where his eyes rested.

"You know you have a Chimchar on your couch, right?" he asked me. I nodded wordlessly. "Do you mind me asking why?" That made me laugh.

"He needed a place to crash." I took it upon myself to explain to him the events that'd passed just minutes before. I pulled a chair from the dining room for him to sit on, afraid that if he sat on the couch he would disturb Chimchar. I grabbed a seat for myself and made a pot of tea. He listened to me in awed silence, a tea cup poised in his hand but never making it to his lips. Until the very last sentence of my story he sat watching Chimchar in mute reverie. It was a while after my story was finished before he spoke again.

"Why this Chimchar? Why aren't you afraid now, after all these years?" He asked, still watching Chimchar. I shrugged though he didn't see me.

"I couldn't stand to see him hurt I guess. He looked so vulnerable that I couldn't _not_ help him." I shrugged. "I didn't think too much about it honestly. I just… did what I had to do."

"Even though you said he tried to attack you earlier in the day…You're something else Bernie," he mumbled under his breath.

"Now that I think about it. He didn't technically try to attack me. He was mad at Tris, not me, and when I jumped in front of him, Chimchar just…stopped. I wonder why…" Of course that got me musing. It was a good question. Why _did_ Chimchar stop? What turned his furious rage into…something else.

I tried to understand the look on his face when I was at the bakery, opening my eyes to see why I wasn't dead yet. There was rage, hurt, nostalgia…curiosity? Maybe a little bit. But there was also a need to protect in his eyes. Why would he want to protect me, a stranger? Did I remind him of someone, did I do something to give him pause? Was he maybe just a really good little Pokémon, who didn't want to hurt people? What had Tris done to make him so mad anyway? And I still had no explanation for the enraged aura that was swirling around him, all that pain and suffering. What'd caused that?

I heard a frustrated sigh and looked over at Jared. He was looking at me with an irritated expression.

"Every time I've been away from you for this long, I forget how annoying that is," Jared said.

"What?" I asked.

"The way you retreat into your head. You're always thinking. And you make that face." He put his tea down onto the coffee table, still full. I was hurt. Not because of what he was saying to me, but because of the images and memories they brought to my head.

 _There goes that face again. Your thinking face. What are you thinking about?_ The memory of his voice sent my heart into a little flutterFor the second time that day I sensed the bright yellow ribbon fluttering, saw the cocky little smile, but I tried my best to push that memory away. That opened up too many painful avenues that I didn't want to explore.

"Is it so bad to think?" I mumbled into my tea cup.

"It is when all you do is think. You're always caged underneath that mousy brown hair." He leaned over and mused my hair, despite my protest. "When are you going to break free and actually talk to human beings for a change? Go out and explore the world! Meet people, do things, go places. Being cooped up here in Twinleaf is going to make you go crazy eventually," Jared practically shouted in aggrivation. I glanced over at Chimchar, afraid he would be startled by the sound. But he was still deeply asleep, snoring louder than before. I sighed and put my tea cup down beside my brother's.

"I won't go crazy. I have friends in Twinleaf," I said.

"Who, Tris?" I looked down at my lap, slightly embarrassed. "What happens when Tris decides he wants to leave for the city, or finally wants to start his own adventure? I've known that kid since he was born. He's not meant for small town life. There's going to be a time when he finds his own Pokémon and he's going to leave. You'll be all alone." My throat tightened with emotion. "Eventually you're going to have to leave too."

"You know I can't do that, Jare. I'm too…I can't…Pokémon frighten me," I explained. Jared threw out a finger, pointing over at Chimchar.

"But you're perfectly fine now." He accused.

"…I know. I'm as confused as you are. I told you before. This is all so…sudden. I don't know if I can tolerate Pokémon. For all I know this is some fluke. I blacked out earlier...maybe I hit my head or something...knocked something loose up there. That doesn't mean it's permanent." I looked over at Chimchar, my head filled with confusion and concern.

"Then why don't we try it now?" Jared stood up and touched his belt where four pokeballs hung, looking worn. I jumped up with him, throwing one arm out to stop him. It flew to his hand, grabbing it before he could take one of the pokeballs off his belt. My heart raced just thinking about what he was preparing to do. He looked at my hand, a frown pulling down at the corners.

"I think I've had enough excitement for one day. I'm surprised I'm not huddled in a corner having a panic attack so let's not push my luck, okay?" Jared's frown deepened, but this hand fell away from his belt. My own stayed poised carefully in the air. The sudden urge to clean came over me. I looked over at the tea cups, and the shattered crystal flower. I also remembered the extremely crooked painting and the dent in the wall above where my pot still lay on the ground. My fingers itched to fix the mess that was my living room, a compulsory habit brought out by stress.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. He was silent for a while. I struggled with my need to clean and the knowledge that if I did he would accuse me of being antisocial. He looked at the clock on my bookcase. "It's late anyway. I guess I should leave. I'm gonna be around for the next couple of weeks though." My heart swelled with joy, cleaning suddenly forgotten.

"Are you really! Why?" I asked.

"Rowan asked me to stay and collect some data with him. I'll be out again as soon as we're done though, so don't get too excited." He tried to keep his sour expression, but my overjoyed reaction brought an involuntary smile to his face. I nodded. He looked over again at Chimchar. He was now laying on his back, one leg dangling over the side, his belly rising and falling with his breathing.

"You're gonna be okay with him here, right?" Jared asked.

"I think so. As long as my immunity to him holds up," I replied. He nodded looking serious again. There was something in the back of those amber eyes of his which were exactly like my mother's. It was there for such a brief second that I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it or not. I walked him out of the house, cleaning my living room once again on my mind. But, despite my need to clean, I still couldn't get that look out of my head. It was a flash of emotion that I had not expected. Hope.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few weeks were interesting. Chimchar stayed close by my side from that day on. When I woke the next morning he was curled up against my side, still deeply asleep. The warmth he gave off, and the warmth he made me feel in my heart, was a metaphor for our relationship. Though I feared I would become afraid of him once again, it never happened. I realized pretty quickly that my fears were not so easily pardoned when it came to other Pokémon. Though I was able to be in the same room with one without breaking out into a cold sweat, I still had to keep a good fifteen foot distance from them. Chimchar made it easier for me. He realize my fear of other Pokémon from the first day, and was careful to stay by my side when any others were in my proximity. His presence made it all easier.

Tris and Chimchar were fast friends. The first time Tris came face to face with him, he put up quite a front. He jumped back, frightened, but his hand went to grab a chair in case he needed it for self-defense. It took me some time get Tris to understand that Chimchar would not hurt him, and Chimchar didn't making it any easier when he hissed and spit at Tris. I finally got them to calm enough to explain both their significances in my life. My best friend and first Pokémon friend began to get along from the first smile. They were both pranksters and when Chimchar was not at my side, sleeping or watching me, he was with Tris causing all sorts of trouble in the shop or around town. Dan got quite a few complaints from the townspeople, and Tris got a talking to quite a few times, but that never slowed either him or Chimchar down. I watched their daily growth with fondness, not caring either way if they were pests. So long as they weren't a serious danger to Twinleaf I said nothing to discourage their fun.

My mother and grandmother were both pleasantly surprised to see Chimchar the first time I went to visit them after meeting him. He took to them almost immediately. My mother fell in love with the little giggle I'd come to love as well. Despite my gains in the realm of pokemon, my grandmother insisted on introducing me to others and, like the pushy person she was, ignored my protests. After releasing her extremely clingy Jinx from her pokeball, she realized instantly that I was not over my fear of Pokémon. I was reduced to tears in the corner of the room with Chimchar hovering protectively over me. That was the last of her experiments, though she was very vocal about her opinion, constantly asking me to meet new Pokémon.

Jared visited frequently, taking the short journey from Sandgem to Twinleaf almost every weekend. My family sat down to a Sunday dinner every week at my house. He took that time to study the relationship between me and Chimchar. He never spoke about his analysis, but I saw the crease between his silver brows, a certain hint that he was thinking deeply about something. I never pointed out that he was stuck in his brain thinking about everything and anything, just as often as he accused me. Though I supposed his point was that I never left my house except to go to work or to get the necessities of life from the market. But this changed too, along with the other things suddenly morphing in my life.

With the guidance of Chimchar and Tris I explored more, even if I only stepped ten paces away from Twinleaf. I went to town events like high school football games, and went to see the tree being put up in the middle of town square when Christmas neared. I still refused to go watch any of the televised battles which would sometimes air at the school in town. Tris took Chimchar with him to root and cheer for their favorites while I stayed at home, reading or feeding my obsession for cleanliness. Though that changed slightly too.

I still felt the urge to create order in all categories of my life, but the appearance of Chimchar weakened the urge. He was so sporadic and unpredictable that it was exhausting to keep up with the messes he created around the house. I tried my best to help him understand why order was necessary, and he did get better, but at one point I realized that it was not worth my energy to attempt to change him any further. I was not angered by his tendency, I felt the complete opposite. I came to love his flaw—all his flaws—they changed me, helped me grow, and drew me closer to Chimchar.

By the end of three weeks I felt closer to him than anyone else in my life. While everyone around me, even the ones I was closest to, couldn't understand me and judged me for my oddities, Chimchar did the exact opposite. As I'd guessed before, he was just a baby the first time we met-as confirmed by my mother. So when we got close he was completely free of judgment, he looked at me with the unaccusing eyes of a toddler. He loved me for me, and that was all.

I felt myself lulling to sleep on the couch, the TV droning in the background. Chimchar was curled up against my body, a spot of heat at my chest fighting off the cold outside. This was how we fell asleep many nights, before I woke and carried him to my bedroom where he positioned himself and fell asleep again, curled up on the second pillow, close enough that I could still feel the heat radiating from his body. And it'd seemed this night was no exception until something coming from the TV registered in my brain. I opened my eyes, blurry with sleep, and tried to focus on the newscast which was pitching a faint blue light over Chimchar and me.

"Once again we have our eyes on a Sinnoh favorite." The newscaster was a pretty woman, a little over thirty years old. Her eyes were filled with hero worship, and I knew every word that came out of her mouth would be filled with awe and adulation. "Everyone's favorite trainer, Echo, has once again spoiled the plans of a thieving duo on the outskirts of Jubilife City. This former Twinleaf Town resident has been the ruiner of many bad guys' days over the past few years." I was now more awake. Enough so that the words registered loud and clear in my head. I grabbed the blanket I had wrapped around me and crushed it in my fist.

"He did not let us down when, once again, he stopped the thieves with just a flick of a Pokeball and a single command. The two men are now in Officer Jennie's custody being questioned. All we know of them is their allegiance. Just like the last five criminals Echo has been able to foil, these felons swear to an elusive organization, calling themselves Vipers. We have no way of…" I shut off the TV, having heard enough. The abrupt motion did not startle Chimchar, who was still fast asleep. I didn't pay much attention to that though. My mind was spinning in other circles. The cocky smile, golden halo of hair, his bright, energized aura. There were too many memories fighting their way to the forefront of my mind. I couldn't hold them back any longer.

It hadn't been a very long time since I'd heard that name. Connor Jackson was a hero in Twinleaf. He was dubbed with his nickname while he was still living in town and made it a household name in under a year. Everyone across the Sinnoh Region knew who Echo was. He was a strong rookie who took the Pokémon League by storm, fighting his way through all the gym leaders like it was nothing. He just barely lost in the championship to the current champion, Cynthia, but he didn't let his spirits die. He was trying again, training to beat Cynthia and saving people across the Sinnoh Region in the process. While the rest of Twinleaf couldn't get enough of him, I thought of him not with idolization but anger. I wasn't angry at him of course, Echo was a nice enough guy, I was angry at myself for one reason.

I met Echo after his fame exploded across Sinnoh. Before then he was just a passing face, like the rest in town. But that first meeting was enough to draw me to his near intoxicating aura and hold me there.

It was during a brief visit back home, right after his loss to Cynthia. I remembered it as if I was still sitting there, under the shade of the Pecha trees just outside of the school. The spot was out of view of the classes, a large shed obscuring the vision of any of the student inside. But the spot was pleasant. It was surrounded by wildflowers of all shapes and smells, and at that time of day, just as the afternoon was at its peak, the sun shed warm soft light on everything. I went there often to get away from the rest of the world thinking that no one except for me came to this place. But apparently I was wrong.

I was alerted of his approach by the sound of his exasperated sigh. I looked up from the book I was reading to see his figure, dark in front of the glare of the sun.

I hadn't seen it before, his swirling, yellow aura, so bright that he looked like the sun himself.

"Can I help you?" I asked politely. There were only two types of conversations I had with people who were not my family or Tris. Polite and detached or fearful and crying.

"Nah. I was just hoping I could find one place in this godforsaken town where I could be alone." As anyone could imagine, this sentence did not settle well with me, the sarcasm and accusation in it set off the bright red alarms in my head. I don't know why I said what I said next. It was very out of character for me to speak out to another person. Maybe it was because I couldn't see his face, and it made this conversation less real for me, or maybe I was just feeling especially pissy that day. Either way I took the anger inside and let it out in a single sentence. Just as the boy was turning to leave I got up myself.

"I wouldn't want his highness to have to talk to people." I was ready to leave too. Without looking at the boy or his face I walked toward him. Just as I passed him I felt a hand grab my wrist. My stomach dropped. Shit. I'd done it now. I knew I was in for a beating, verbal or otherwise. That's what I get for opening my big stupid mouth.

"Wait. I'm sorry, you don't have to leave." Even though I heard the sincerity and the apology in his words, they just rekindled my anger at the boy.

"Yeah. I don't have to do anything. I'm..." but my words faded as I recognized him. My mouth snapped closed not because I was a fan; because truly, I wasn't anything close. I didn't follow trends like the other kids in the town did. I had no one to follow them with, except Tris, and there was no one less made from the mold than Tris. I stopped talking because I respected this kid. I respected him because of his hard work and commitment, something so many others lacked.

"You're right. Just stay, and I'll leave. I'm sure I can find somewhere else to be alone." But he didn't look sure at all. I looked down and gritted my teeth. Then I sighed.

"If you promise to shut up and let me read, then we can both stay here," I told him, not looking him in his brown eyes. But I heard the relief in his voice.

"Really, thanks!" He gave no explanation as to why he was avoiding the entirety of Twinleaf, and showed no hint of realization that I'd recognized him. He just walked right over to one of the Pecha trees and leaned against it, throwing the hat he wore over his face. In seconds he was asleep. I stared in disbelief but, after a few moments of thought, grinned to myself. I walked silently to the shed and leaned against it, flipping to the page where I stopped.

We sat like that until the light started to disappear. I thought briefly that maybe I should just let him sleep there until he woke himself up, but thought better of it. Instead I went over and kicked him, jolting him awake. He jumped up, his hand going reflexively to the five pokeballs at his belt. His hat fluttered to the ground at his feet.

"It's dark." Were my words of parting.

Echo showed up to the same spot for the next week. We sat the same way as the first day, him against the tree clonked out like someone punched him hard in the face, and me minding my own business reading whatever book piqued my interest that day. It was the Saturday after our first meeting that he changed our new routine. As he walked into our little spot he turned to look at me, an odd expression on his face. He glanced over to his usual tree and sighed, then he walked over to where I sat and slid down beside me.

"Why are you here on a Saturday? Shouldn't you be with your friends at the shops or something?" He said. There was sarcasm in his voice, and I bristled. Here it came. He was here for the same thing as the rest of them. To tease, to watch the tears roll down my face. But something about him roused a fire in my chest.

"Shouldn't you be off with your friends wearing Gym Leader t-shirts and screaming at TVs?" I mumbled into my book. I'd seen that scene play out once or twice in my own living room with Tris sprawled out on the couch, spit flying onto the TV's screen as he threw up popcorn out of frustration. I obviously stopped that tradition before it started. Echo laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, closing his eyes.

"You would think so, huh?" he mumbled back. I was curious about the triple meaning in his words. He was maybe using 'you' in a general form. If that was the case he was saying it in a sarcastic way to address the world as a whole and to punctuate whatever predetermined view of the world he already had in his mind. Or he was using 'you' to speak about himself. Maybe to satirize his apparent abnormality from other boys in town. Or he was using 'you' to reference me in what I would assume was an almost accusatory fashion. Was he saying that I had a preconceived notion of who he was? But he was guilty of assuming the exact same thing by asking me why I wasn't shopping with other girls. He must be a hypocrite then. Or maybe…

Echo was laughing. I turned to stare at him as his laughter shook his lean frame. He was so amused that he leaned one hand against his knee to support himself while the other held his abdomen. Maybe to keep his guts from flying out of his stomach? I should only be so lucky.

"Is something funny?" I said with as much malice as I could muster. I found myself closing my book and placing it on the ground between us.

"It's just interesting to see the wheels turning in your head," he said as he wiped a tear from his eye. I noticed that in this light they were closer to red than brown. His blond hair turned almost white where the light touched it just right.

"You know what was really funny? When you lost to Cynthia just as you thought you were about win with that Outrage attack, and Cynthia's Garchomp came up with a Giga Impact so powerful it knocked you and your Dragonite on your asses."

"So you do know who I am." He didn't look angry, or even shocked, just contemplative.

"Who the hell in this town doesn't? All I hear everywhere I go is, 'Oh. Echo he's so cool.' 'I hung out with Echo once. We got really close' 'Echo's so cute!'" I mimicked the high whiny voices of some of the girls I saw around the halls. The ones who were utterly and absolutely enamored with him. But my little show only brought a grin to his stupid face.

"Do you think I'm cool and cute?" He asked. I'm pretty sure I gagged. Wow. This guy was a total douche bag. I wondered why I'd every respected him in the first place. I stood up and left. Even as I heard the apologies behind me, even as I remembered that I'd left my book behind, I didn't turn back around. I made a promise to myself to never see him again.


	6. Chapter 6

I looked outside my mother's window into the backyard. Just beyond the thin strip of grass that I used to play in was the huge expanse of the forest. If you continued straight you would eventually reach Lake Verity. I of course never reached that far. The deepest I dared to venture was about twenty feet in—only because I was accompanied by an experienced Pokémon trainer.

My heart thudded wildly in my chest. A Pokémon trainer that still had my heart in his hands though I couldn't imagine where he was at the moment. The last I'd heard about him was on TV the night before. Jubilife City. I wondered briefly if he was still there now. It was so close too, just a town away. If I really wanted to I could just…

Chimchar chattered loudly in my ear, making me jump and throw a cup full of tea onto my mother's white as snow rug.

"Jeez, Chimchar! Look what you made me do," I yelled. I put down my cup on the table and got on my hands and knees, a napkin in hand. My attempts at purging the rug of its stain failed miserably, instead it was twice as large.

"Dammit. We talked about this! You can't just do whatever you want, you have to think before you do things!" I sighed in frustration at the stain, realizing my efforts were pointless. I looked up at Chimchar, staring at him pointedly with an angry look. Chimchar looked at me with wide teary eyes. Oh shit.

"Oh, Chimchar. I'm sorry. I didn't…" But he burst into tears, his wails loud enough that I had to cover my ears. He ran away from me, still crying, and jumped into my mother's arms as she walked into the room. She pet his head nurturingly, with care only a mother could give.

"What did you do? Why is he crying?" My mother said, her absolute love for the Pokémon overruling her motherly affection for me. She had Chimchar tight in her arms, hopping around to try and soothe him, like she would do with a baby. Chimchar hid his face in her long waving hair, his fit already reduced to hiccups and a whine or two.

"He made me spill tea and I…I mean. I didn't mean to, but…" I sighed and dropped the towel on the ground. I threw out my arms. "Chimchar I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I was just…thinking. And my thinking was frustrating me." He peered at me through my mother's hair but stayed put, his arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders.

"I'll make you a pecha berry cake when we get home." I enticed. He chattered happily and threw himself into my arms. I hugged him tight to me, very sorry for having snapped, but amused that it seemed as though he knew it would come to this conclusion. I wouldn't put it past my clever little Chimchar. He knew how to manipulate a situation to get what he wanted and, like a toddler, he knew that if he threw a fit he would be given anything he wanted in exchange for amnesty.

"You know you're sort of a handful. You spill tea, you mess up my house, you pick on all the people in town...Maybe I should start calling you Rebel?" I laughed to myself. But Chimchar didn't laugh. He poked my cheek with a calloused finger and chattered at me, nodding his head.

"Do you like that name?" He chattered happily, throwing his arms around me.

"Okay. I don't mind calling you that. Rebel. Fits pretty well I think. Rebel. Hm." He suddenly went still in my arms, after having placed his head on my shoulder.

"What you're already over the name?" I asked. I looked down at him to see his eyes shut and his face peaceful. I chuckled to myself. Geez. He sure could tire himself out like it was nothing. I brushed his cheek with all the tenderness I had in me. "Sleep little Rebel. I'll have that Pecha cake ready for you when you wake up." His ears perked up slightly at the mention of the Pecha cake and he sighed contently in his sleep, probably dreaming about it.

My mother still stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms crossed, and a pensive look on her face. It was much more attractive than mine. In fact my mother in general was so much more than I was. She was prettier, bolder, and fierce. The grace she walked with and the confidence she carried made people turn to look at her, even when she was wearing her scrubs. When she was younger she was a coordinator, a fact that my grandmother hated at the time. Gran thought mom's talent shouldn't be wasted on "silly little shows". But my mother was strong, smart and persevering. She won many competitions, and through her hard work and dedication, she gained the respect of many Pokémon trainers, including, eventually, her own mother. In these ways, and many others, she was everything I wasn't.

I always felt bad. I'm sure my mother expected me to follow in her footsteps. I remember the sparkly little outfits she used to dress me up in, trying to get me to play coordinator. I was never interested. She didn't mind all that much, but when I didn't want to play trainer or breeder, I began to notice the worry on her face. Surely she expected her kids to grow to have careers in the Pokémon fields. And she was right when it came to Jared. He was plenty successful already, he was working with the top professor in the Sinnoh region after all, respected by him even. I, on the other hand, was still frightened out of my mind by all Pokémon except one.

"Every single time I see the two of you together I have to reevaluate everything," she said as she walked over to sit down on one of her couches. She picked up her tea cup, taking a meditative sip. I threw a guilty glance at her carpet.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I sat back down on the couch opposite her.

"I never thought my little girl would have a Pokémon." She smiled delicately. I blinked at her, shocked.

"He's not my Pokémon Mom. He's just... always there. Besides, it's not like he has a pokeball or anything." I hugged Rebel a little tighter to my chest. My mom laughed, making me blush self-consciously.

"Sweety, you don't need to have a pokeball to be connected in that way to a Pokémon. A pokeball is just a formality. You even have a nickname for him. The way you two are connected shows everyone that he's your Pokémon." She laughed again. "Mrs. Weber asked me when you were going to go out on your adventure. I let her think it would be soon."

"Mom!" I shouted before remembering Rebel. But, as I expected, he barely even twitched.

"What?! I honestly thought you would be gone by now." I blinked at her, shocked. "Oh come on honey, you can't tell me you haven't thought about it," she said. Then she took in my face, really registering the shock in it. "You haven't thought about it?"

"No! You know my condition. An adventure will never be a possibility for me. I'm too…meek," I mumbled. My mom just laughed again.

"You obviously don't see yourself the same way I do. You're much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"You have to say that because you're my mom." I looked down at the ground, my face flushing.

"No. I say it because it's true. You know me. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. The way you've stood up for the weak all these years. That takes strength. Do you think Tris would be the healthy strong kid he is today without you, because I don't. Five years ago he was on the fast track to delinquency. You're the one who changed that. You stood by him, stood up to anyone who put him down, and you were there when he needed you, no matter what you were doing. Now you're doing it again with this little guy." She looked at Rebel affectionately. "Do you know why he's all alone?" I looked at her, surprised.

" _You_ do?" she nodded.

"Jared just told me. He heard in town that he's an orphan. His family was taken by poachers, the whole lot of them ripped right away from their home. He managed to escape, but he's a baby. He didn't know right from wrong. When you found him…or when he found you, he was quickly becoming the worst kind of nuisance. Without a family to guide him he was causing trouble, serious trouble. They were about to do something about him. She sighed. She was looking off into the distance, straight through the forest, to somewhere I couldn't see.

"By do something about him you mean..." my voice trailed off. The words were to horrid to say out loud.

"Yes. But when you came along he finally found someone to guide him. You're strong because you saw the innocence and the pain, and the loneliness in this little guy. Despite your fears you helped him." Then she looked back at me, intensity in her brown eyes.

"Who says you can't do it again? There are other people, other Pokémon out there that need someone like you. You're strong enough, even if you don't believe you are, to help more than just Tris and Rebel. If you could just see past your silly little fears…"

"You think my phobia is…silly." I growled. Automatically, my mother's face fell.

"Sweetheart, that's not what I meant. I mean, yes I do think your fears are all just in your head, and I do think that if you tried you could get past them, but I don't think they're silly. That's the wrong word." Her apologies and explanations did nothing to stifle the anger I was feeling. I think she saw that too. She leaned forward, ready to diffuse the situation further, but I'd heard enough. I needed to leave. All of this, her view of my life-her view of me in general-was too real for me, and so far from how I saw myself. I didn't want to think about any of this. I shot up out of my chair, ready to leave.

"Where are you going?" She set her cup down and leaned toward me with her hand extended in my direction, as if she could keep me there with just a gesture.

"Home. I don't want to talk about this anymore." I toward the door with Rebel still tucked against my chest. "I'll see you tonight at dinner. I'm not going to want to talk about it then either." All I could think about was getting home. I was done with people telling me my fears were just in my head. First Jared, now mom. I couldn't take people telling me how I feel.

 _Don't kid yourself. Jared wasn't the first one to tell you you're too caught up in your own mind_. God I hated that little voice in my head. Why did it always have to be right? But it was. One other person told me the same thing. Echo. Just like my mother and Jared, I didn't believe him. There was no way I could ever be anything more than a shy, scared little patissier. I was starting to get a little fed up with these expectations that they were putting on me. They all wanted me to be so much more than I could ever be. I wish they could just see that and stop their judgment.

But now I had someone who didn't judge me. I looked down at the little Chimchar in my arms, a warm spot against my chest. He was totally judgment free. He didn't care if I got along with other Pokémon, he even tried to protect and comfort me when I was scared. I suppose it was a little ironic. A Pokémon protecting me from my fear of Pokémon. I was pretty messed up in the head.


	7. Chapter 7

At home I found myself thinking, as usual. With Rebel fast asleep in my room, I had nothing to distract me from my thoughts. Even if I didn't feel bad about waking Rebel, I don't think I could have. The little guy slept like a rock. My fingers were preoccupied with making Sunday night dinner, but even that didn't keep my mind off the topic I so wanted to avoid. _Echo_.

Thinking of him brought to the surface so many emotions that I wanted to keep down. Frustration, anger…longing. I couldn't deal with these emotions, especially since I knew they were there because of no fault but my own. It was like my mind and body couldn't process any of it, and all that pent up emotion was the reason I snapped at Rebel earlier.

But I couldn't fight it. All those old feelings, all the memories, came bubbling up to the forefront of my mind. I couldn't help but pick up where I left off the night before.

 _My promise to avoid Echo was broken almost immediately. I assure you, it was not broken of my own doing. The day after our quarrel I was at my mother's house, in my own room, when I heard Gran call out to me. Being the good granddaughter that I was, my reaction was automatic. I left to see what she wanted. But as I saw who stood beside her I vowed never to listen to my grandmother again._

 _She was pointing wildly to Echo who was leaning down so my short grandmother could wrap a bony arm around his shoulders. Her grin was almost manic it was so wide. My face resembled a psychotic look of its own. Echo must have seen murder spelled across my face because he gave pause before taking a deep breath._

" _Look who we have here! Echo! And he came to see you." I didn't even look at my grandmother. I could only hope she read the sense of betrayal rolling off me in waves. Echo looked awkward under her arm, but he held something out to me anyway. It was the book I'd left yesterday. I looked at it then looked up at him._

" _How did you know where I live?" No thank you, no approval, I allowed my voice to be as icy as I could make it. Even a blizzard couldn't be colder than me._

" _Your name was inside, so I asked around. It took a little while to find you, not too many people knew who you were but…are you okay?" He must have seen my face turn white. He leaned toward me, my grandmother's arm falling from his shoulder, and held a hand out in my direction. My grandmother scoffed quietly to herself._

" _Oh. Kids. They're so dramatic," she chortled to herself as she left the room._

" _Bernie. Are you okay?" Even though I was utterly and absolutely annoyed and a bit frightened, I couldn't help but feel a little thrill in the pit of my stomach at the sound of my name coming out of his mouth. He said it so sweetly, with such respect. No one else had ever said my name that way. It was either said with a hissed sarcasm from the douche bags, or with protectiveness and, sometimes, pity from the people I loved. But he said it like I was his equal, not like I was scum on the bottom of his shoe or a defenseless creature to be sheltered._

" _Do you know what you've done? Everyone you asked about me is going to be talking about how you asked about me. And it's going to spread around town." I gritted my teeth. "They're gonna come after me for sure," I mumbled to myself._

" _Who?" he assumed I was talking to him. Self-righteous bastard. I humored him._

" _Everyone who thinks they're in love with you! All those girls with your face on their binders, and all your collectable items. They're gonna spit in the faces of their bobble heads, wishing me dead."_

" _Wait. I have a bobble head?" He looked amused._

" _Yep with the same head to body ratio as you." I glared at him as he thought about that one._

" _Did you just call me big headed?" But he only grinned. "You know, you're sort of clever." I rolled my eyes_

" _Don't flatter me," I growled._

" _No, I'm serious. It's like I told you yesterday. I like to see the wheels turning in your head. Your concentration is visible. You make this face." He scrunched up his face and looked toward the ceiling. "That's why I laughed yesterday." Then his face turned apologetic. "I'm sorry about that by the way. I didn't mean to make you angry."_

" _You think being sarcastic and condescending is going to win me over?"_

" _When was I sarcastic and condescending?" Now he was angry._

"' _Do you think I'm cool and cute?'" I quoted. He looked at me with sudden understanding._

" _I wasn't being sarcastic. It was an actual question." I blinked at him, confused. He took a deep breath and threw a hand back behind his head, rubbing his neck. He cast his eyes at my bare feet. "Because I think of both when I think of you." A blush crept up my back and spread across my cheeks._

" _Oh," I said._

" _This is when you declare your love for him!" My grandmother half hissed, half whispered. She was leaning into the entrance room, half her body still in the hallway._ Eavesdropping hag _._

" _Come on," I mumbled. I reached for his arm to steer him toward the backdoor, then thought better of it and just walked, hoping he would follow. I took him past the house and toward the backyard. It was never really much of a backyard. Only about ten feet of grass from the back porch actually belonged to my mother. The rest was the forest, stretching for miles. Pokémon territory. Normally I would not ever set a foot into the trees here, knowing that Pokémon loved to hide in the branches above and the brush around us. But I knew that we could not continue to have a conversation with my grandmother in the room, and there was nowhere else in town we could go without eyes watching Echo's every move. Our usual sanctuary was too far for us to walk together. Too many people would notice me walking next to him, and that would be bad for the both of us. We didn't go very deep into the forest. Only so far that I was sure my grandmother wouldn't hear us. I was also scared half to death that if we went too far a Pokémon would pop out at us. That wouldn't be very much fun._

 _Once I stopped and I turned to look at him, a blush still making its way steadily up my neck, I wasn't sure what to do. We just sort of stood there, a little awkwardly. He didn't look at me, and I couldn't help but stare at him. I didn't know what to make of him anymore. Was he what I originally thought he was? Someone to respect for his commitment, perseverance, and talent? Was he my next assumption? A total big headed douche bag with attitude problems? Or was there the third. I thought again about what he said to me._ I wasn't being sarcastic. It was an actual question.

 _A little shiver ran down my spine. Great god of Pokémon. Why did I like those two sentences so much? Was I turning into one of those bobble head wielding Barbie dolls that clung to Echo's every action and word? There was no way I could let that happen. But the way he said it was so appealing. Maybe it wasn't the way he said anything in particular, just the sound of his voice all together. It was so deep, so rich, and throaty and…dammit! I shook my head. What the hell was I thinking! He was just a boy like the rest. And he was cocky and rude. It didn't matter how strong his Pokémon were or how adorable his smile was. Who cared if his stupid sweater clung to his stupid chest just right and outlined all the muscles? Wait…when did I notice that? I looked down at his chest and blushed brighter. I was right._

" _You're making that face again." Echo looked up at me from beneath his eye lashes, his head still bent down. "What are you thinking about?"_

" _How much I hate you," I lied. He sighed._

" _Why is it so bad that I asked around about you?" He asked. It was my turn to sigh._

" _You remember those girls I was telling you about?"_

" _The ones with my face on their binders?" He grinned, a little smug. I glared at him but didn't comment._

" _They are crazy bitches."_

" _Will they start giving you problems?" I laughed bitterly._

" _Not start. It'll get worse."_

" _You mean they bother you already?" Bother was an understatement. You didn't just bother someone when you shoved them into lockers, or took all their books and threw them down a toilet. Or scared them into a shocked fit, full of tears and fear, with the one thing they dreaded above all else. The memory sent my heart fluttering into overdrive and made tears spring in my eyes. I could almost see the three hulking forms that leaned over me that night. I could hear the inhuman laughter they gave off. My body began to shake. No that wasn't bothering. That was harassment. And for what? Because I was a little different from the rest of them. Because my father wasn't around anymore and I had an irrational fear of all things Pokémon?_

" _Are you all right?" I hated how his voice made my heart beat louder and faster in a different way than the fear my memories brought up. I almost wanted the other kind back. I wiped the back of my hand under each of my eyes and stepped away from his outstretched hand._

" _Listen. I'm sorry 'bout anything I said. I didn't mean to be a jerk, and I didn't mean to give you problems…I just…well I know how you feel." I looked up at him, surprised. "You're not the only one who can't stand people you know. I'm always with you in that little spot because I can't stand the way they treat me. A year ago none of them would give me a second glance. As soon as I decided to leave this stinking town and started to make it big, people started to notice me and…well…almost revere me. And don't take that the wrong way! I don't like it. I mean…it was nice at first. But then I started wondering why I never got this reaction from others before." He paused and looked out deeper into the forest. "Do you know why they call me Echo? Where the name came from?" he was looking at me now. Staring down at me with his odd brown-red eyes. "It was something they called me. After a particularly bad…altercation. Because my yells echoed through the forest. That was the day I decided to leave. I took a Pokémon from my dad, and just left without a goodbye to anyone. I gave the name Echo at my registration, and never looked back from it. I use it as a reminder of what I used to be and what I can become."_

 _My mouth was open into a little 'o'. I didn't know how to respond. What could you say when a near stranger gave you his whole life story looking so defeated, so torn, from remembering it? Did I ignore what he said? No that would make me a bitch. Besides I didn't think I could ignore him if I wanted to. That story was too heartbreaking to ignore. And the look on his face was worse as he watched me with broken eyes, waiting for a reaction. Then should I hug him? I'd never hugged a boy who wasn't related to me except for Tris, and he was so much smaller, so much less…developed? Hugging him would not be a good idea right now. But I had to react in some way, give him some show of compassion. Something! Come on Bernie! Anything would be nice._

" _Um…I'll take back my book now," I mumbled. Echo looked at me for a second, contemplating. Then a small grin spread across his face. He leaned over, book in hand. I took it from him carefully, very careful not to let our hands touch. The way I was feeling right now called for absolutely no physical contact. I was too afraid I would lean over the last little space between us and…but no. Even thinking it was too dangerous._

" _Thank you," I mumbled instead, hoping he knew my appreciation wasn't for the book. The look on his face told me he did. He turned away from me and walked out of the forest. All I could do was quickly follow him out, afraid of the bright eyes that stared at me from behind._


	8. Chapter 8

The cake I was working on was not coming out the way I wanted to. For whatever reason the icing wasn't moving how I thought it would. Was it maybe too cold? I don't know how that could be when I just whipped up a batch. Maybe there was something stuck in the pipe? Or maybe it was just my shaking hands that made it difficult.

I sighed and put the icing bag down. I ripped my hair band away and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. I looked at the clock above the ancient oven. It was almost four in the afternoon. I looked over at Rebel's usual spot, a little chair in the corner of the room with his favorite scarlet blanket-a present knitted by my mother. At the moment it was entirely vacant, the blanket still folded from the Friday before.

The last time I'd seen Rebel was after Sunday night dinner. After eating all the Pokémon food I'd made him, he'd slunk out the kitchen window. I did nothing to stop him because it wasn't unusual behavior. Rebel liked his alone time, and he would often stalk off for a few hours to do whatever it was that he did. But he was now gone for almost a full day. That was very out of character for him. I didn't know whether to be worried or nonchalant, but I was definitely leaning toward the former.

"Bernie Girl, will you chill? I'm sure he'll be back soon." Tris was leaning against the bakeries' front counter. He had on an apron, which had done nothing to protect the black shirt he had on underneath. Just like his shirt, flour streaked across his cheek. A bowl of dough ready to put away to rise sat on the counter beside him. Tris made the best bread of us all in the bakery. It was actually the only thing-in respect to baking-that he was good at. He definitely didn't have the patience or the creativity for cakes and pastries. I walked over to lean against the counter beside him.

"I can't help but worry," I mumbled. Tris threw an arm around my shoulder comfortingly. I only worried briefly about the flour he was probably getting on my shirt. I had bigger matters to be concerned about.

"Don't forget that Rebel is a lot more powerful than you'll ever be. He can take care of himself, he doesn't need you to baby him." His reassurances did nothing to comfort me.

"Bern! Seriously chill. I've spent just as much time with him as you have, and I'm not such a worrier. You can trust me when I say that he is completely fine. That little punk is hard as nails. He looks it too." Tris grinned down at me. "I know Chimchars are supposed to be cute but that guy can look downright scary with those scars." I laughed sadly.

"Yeah. He can be scary can't he?" Then I laughed again. "But a big guy like you scared of a little Chimchar?" I said.

"I'm not saying that I'm scared of him." He took his arm off my shoulder, and flexed it. "I'm a big strong guy. I can protect myself from Rebel. I'd win in a battle with him, my guns against his attacks. I'm positive I'd win." I rolled my eyes at him but couldn't help but smile. He was right though. As I looked at him I realized something I hadn't yet realized; he got bocky. When did my little Tris get so buff? Well not buff exactly but definitely taller and leaner than I remembered. There was a definite definition to his arms, and chest-I guess being a baker's son can do that to you. I wasn't the one carrying around huge bags of flour and sugar that was for sure.

"Bet I could still beat you at arm wrestling though." I teased. His eyes lit up and a wide smile spread on his lips.

"Oh you're on. I'm gonna…" Tris stopped as we both heard the high pitched squeal coming from outside.

"What was that?" I said. Tris was already jumping over the counter. I walked around and ran behind him as he threw the door to the bakery open. We ran out onto the street were a crowd of people was already gathered. They were all over the place, many still not sure what was going on. They were looking around trying to find the source of the commotion, though it took me a little while to realize where the screaming was coming from. People ran past me, down the road, looking scared. I could tell right away they were running away from something, so I looked down the way they came, toward the town center.

We were about two blocks away from Twinleaf's town center, but even from here I could feel the intense energy of a battle waging. Bright flashes of light flew through the air, visible even in the light of midafternoon. I halted as my heart sped up. Tris stood where he was when he noticed I'd stopped mid run. He looked down at me, but I could see the longing in his eyes. He wanted to see what was going on, he'd already ripped off his apron, it was on the ground forgotten in his excitement. To Tris this was probably the epitome of exhilaration-a random battle happening in the middle of Twinleaf. He didn't take to the dullness of Twinleaf the way I did. He wanted more out of life. But he stopped when I did, sure that I would not want to move even an inch closer. He sighed and stood beside me.

"You can go," I mumbled to him as I heard the cry of a frustrated Pokémon. It was deep, and furious. Too harsh to be a trained Pokémon. This was a wild Pokémon.

"There's no way in hell that I'm gonna leave you here when I can hear that." His sentence was punctuated by another enraged cry. I just shrugged.

"They'll probably calm him down soon enough." I heard another cry in the distance, but this time it wasn't the cry of a wild enraged Pokémon. This one was more desperate and scared, probably the cause of the wild Pokémon's anger. And it sounded a lot like a Chimchar. There was a bright flash as fire soared up into the sky and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. My heart sped up with a different kind of fear.

I didn't even think before my body propelled itself forward, pushing through the ever expanding crowd. People poured out into the street, though it was probably smarter for them to stay inside. What I was doing wasn't very smart either. But I wasn't thinking smartly, I was thinking impulsively, and right then I didn't much care. All I could see was Rebel's scared little face looking so innocent that first night we met. I remembered the impulse to protect him, and comfort him despite my fear of Pokémon. This feeling was the same. I needed to protect my little rebel.

I pushed people aside as I heard the battle more clearly. I was closer. The battle was loud and clear, and when I heard Rebel's cry the only thing I could do was run faster and push my way out of the crowd. They were all standing in a circle around the two Pokémon, most of them cheering loudly, egging them on. I couldn't help the anger that coursed through me at these disgusting people, especially when I saw the look on Rebel's face.

He was trying to hold in his fear. I saw the tough look on his face, how he narrowed his eyes and turned down the corners of his mouth in a frown. His scars were stark on his face, hinting at a toughness that I could see was now dwindling. I don't think anyone else noticed the fear that hid behind his eyes. It was just barely there, but he was tired, he was breathing hard, and the fire that was his tail was dimming quickly, just barely the flame it usually was. He was bleeding in some places too. He had some scratches that already looked a few hour old, so he must have been going at it with the other Pokémon for some time already. What really concerned me was the fresh cut along the left side of his belly. He had a hand pressed against it, but it was still oozing blood. The ground around him was covered in it. He was holding something with his other hand. He had it tucked close to his body in protection. I couldn't see what it was but I could tell by his sheer protectiveness that it was the source of their quarrel.

Rebel was leaning forward, toward the Pokémon directly across from him. I glanced over at it. It was a Rhyhorn, at least two hundred and fifty solid pounds of Pokémon. I could tell it was a male by the size of the menacing horn between his eyes. The Rhyhorn looked as healthy and angry as it could be. The only sign on him of a struggle against Rebel was a long black burn across its side, but I imagined it couldn't hurt too much. He was a rock type, Rebel's fire attacks were no match against Rhyhorn's tough exterior.

The Rhyhorn looked like he was about to attack again. He was pawing at the ground menacingly. I looked back at Rebel. He was still leaning forward, ready to fight, but he was tired. He couldn't last much longer. Someone had to do something.

"He's probably gonna use Take Down again. You saw how bad that Chimchar took it. He barely stayed conscious." A man next to me said to his friend. I felt fury in the pit of my stomach. All these people were just watching poor Rebel get beat up. They had no intention of helping him. If no one else was going to help him, I would.

Just as the Rhyhorn readied himself for his next attack I broke free of the crowd and ran toward Rebel. He didn't even notice me as I slid across the ground toward him. His eyes were trained steadily on the Rhyhorn, concentrating on whatever his plan was to beat the brute. But I wasn't about to let him suffer anymore. I slid as I grabbed Rebel in my arms. I pulled him to my chest, ignoring the sound of the Rhyhorn's thunderous footsteps. He was surprised, and, just before I was hit by Rhyhorn's Take Down, I saw the fear in Rebel's eyes.

"Don't worry little guy. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." Then I felt piercing pain right between my shoulder blades. I flew into the air, trying my best to keep Rebel in my arms. In that moment of weightlessness all I could feel was white hot pain. Worse than anything I'd ever felt. Worse than the burns and scrapes and the electric shocks the bullies gave me. The ones I hid from everyone. But all the hurt I'd taken in the past was suddenly meaningless.

I realized suddenly that this was different. This pain was taken on my own terms. I was not a defenseless kid being beat up by the Pokémon of the bullies too scared to hit me themselves. I was suddenly grateful to them. They were the ones who toughened me up all these years. I realized they were the reason I had the strength to protect someone who meant more to me than the world itself. I felt a sort of gratitude for those girls, and filtered my newly realized strength into my arms, holding Rebel as tightly as I could against my chest. When we hit the ground again, some fifteen feet away, and I felt another surge of pain run through my body, I remembered the look on Rebel's face when we'd just met. I wouldn't ever allow him to look like that again. From now on I would protect him with all my strength, even from the creatures I most feared.

Rebel and I rolled for a while when we first touched the ground. I pulled my chin down to my chest, trying my best to protect his head. When we rolled to a stop I pulled away from him, looked down into his amazed eyes. I smiled down at him. He looked more or less unharmed, or not anymore harmed than before. I faintly heard the screams of people around me, heard the footsteps of people running every which way. I didn't pay much attention to them though. Even the angry snarls of the Rhyhorn making his next attack didn't register in my mind. All I could hear was the startled and scared whimpers of the Chimchar in my arms.

"You remember the first time I met you right? When I jumped in front of Tris to protect him? You stopped because you wished you had someone to do that for you. You looked so sad." Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered the look on his face then and registered the scared and sad look on his face now. "You don't have to look like that anymore Rebel. I'm here to protect you now." Then we both shuddered in union when we heard the sound of the Rhyhorn's angry attack call. Pain flared in my back as I kneeled. The intense pain only reminded me that I couldn't take a second attack like that. I needed to move and get out of the Rhyhorn's way. If I passed out I couldn't protect Rebel.

"Bernie! Look out!"


	9. Chapter 9

It was Tris' far cry. But I couldn't stand up. The pain was too much. I fell back down, suddenly overwhelmed by the anger I felt for myself. I had to protect Rebel! I promised him! Though I tried to hold him tighter to myself to protect him with my body he struggled.

He pushed me away and jumped out of my arms. I caught a brief flash of his face. Fury and strength shined there. With a loud cry he jumped into the air and cackled once then let out a burst of fire from his mouth, right over my head.

I sat up and watched the fire travel across the air to the Rhyhorn. He was coming at me, another Take Down ready to hit. Just a few feet away from the two of us, the Ember attack hit him full on the face. I expected the Rhyhorn to continue on, unfazed, but he stopped mid run, and slid back a few feet. He stood there as the fire dispersed, looking slightly dazed.

Rebel did a somersault in midair and fell back down to the cobblestoned streets with more grace than I expected in his condition. He glanced back at me with determined eyes. He chattered at me and nodded his head. I stared at him confused then understood. Slowly I stood too. I tried my best to ignore the pain, but if Rebel could do it, I had to too. We both turned to face the Rhyhorn who was already recovering from his shock. I noticed he had a severe burn along one side of his face.

Suddenly I felt a pull toward Rebel that I'd felt only twice in my life. I felt my aura being tugged on, my strength attempting to entwine with another. And then I saw his aura. It was different than the day we met. Before it was a twirling, angry, wild thing. It showed just how filled with pain his little body was. Now it was changed. It was still a bright scarlet red, and it was still twirling wildly but to a new beat. It wasn't writhing sporadically as I remembered, but waving proudly to a pattern, almost like a dance. His aura, the essence of who he was, was dancing!

"Oaky Rebel! Are you ready to do this!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. He just stood there, the epitome of calm. Pride colored the air around me, and I felt my aura entwine with his. We were one.

The Rhyhorn shook himself out, looking angrier than ever. My head raced as I tried to remember everything I'd learned in school about Rhyhorn. Though I was severely scared of Pokémon I still knew more about them than anyone in my graduating class. Having so few friends gave me a ton of free time to study. I could name each and every Pokémon in four regions and each and every single one of their moves. If this guy could use Take Down he must've been strong. Much stronger than Rebel. The strongest move he knew was Flame Wheel. Rhyhorn were stronger than most Pokémon out there, but what they had in strength they lacked in intelligence. That was our strong point. Rebel was as clever as any Pokémon could get. So we had to play on our strength.

Rhyhorn pulled his head down, displaying his horn in full view. He was going to go for another Take Down. I looked down at Rebel. He definitely couldn't take another attack, especially not one from a Pokémon as strong as this Rhyhorn. Rhyhorn started to run at Rebel.

"Rebel! Jump up and dodge!" Rebel did what I asked. But the Rhyhorn didn't do what I expected. Though Rebel disappeared into the sky, the Rhyhorn didn't seem to notice. He continued to run, and he was heading straight for me! I gasped, but was too startled to move. He was just a foot away from me when something hit me hard from the side and I flew out of the way. The Rhyhorn flew past and into the startled crowd that was behind me. They dived away, allowing him through, and he crashed into the glass shop front of the jeweler.

"Damn. That was close." Tris breathed in my ear. I looked up at him, even half sitting, half laying on the ground like this, he was at least a head taller than me. He looked down at me with accusatory eyes. "Don't you know when an angry Pokémon is running at you, you run away?" I was about to reply to his smart comment when I heard another angry cry. The Rhyhorn was already back and winding up for another attack, totally unscathed. Dammit, even a building couldn't stop that thing?

Rebel was on the ground again, looking over at me with worried eyes. I struggled to stand, but was finally able to with a steady helping hand from Tris. I nodded at Rebel in reassurance, though he looked less than reassured. "Do you know what you're doing, Bernie?" Tris whispered. I shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out." I looked again at the Rhyhorn. "I just need something big enough to stop him for a second, something as hard as he is." I struggled to figure out the problem in front of me. What was hard enough to stop a Pokémon as hard as stone? I gasped and smiled, then looked behind me.

In the middle of Twinleaf Town center was a stone statue of the town's founder. I never paid much attention to it before though it was supposed to be the acme of art in Twinleaf. It was made out of stone for sure, and what could work better to stop a Pokémon made of stone than a stone statue? Perfect. _Sorry Mr. Founder. You're going to have to serve your town._

"Rebel! The statue!" I yelled. He looked at me and to the right where the statue stood tall and proud, reaching high into the sky. He smiled half evilly and nodded again, understanding without an explanation. He turned back to the Rhyhorn who was already mid Take Down. Just before his attack made impact, Rebel jumped into the sky, dodging the Rhyhorn. The Rhyhorn continued to run until he smashed, horn first, into a brick wall. The wall buckled under the force of his attack. He disappeared briefly into the building, rubble and dust clouding our vision of him. He reappeared just moments later, pawing at the ground with a double clawed foot. Rebel smiled at him and stuck his tongue out. He stuck a thumb in each of his ears, and flapped his hands, taunting the Pokémon.

Just as the Rhyhorn was about to attack Rebel with another Take Down, Rebel bee lined for the statue in the middle of the center. All the people around him ran out of the way, ducking for cover as Rebel scampered up the statue and clutched at our founder's neck. The Rhyhorn was just seconds behind him. Too confident in his own power, all he cared about was his attack. He didn't even stop to think about what he was about to crash into. Or how much it would hurt.

The impact between Rhyhorn and the statue was deafening. It shook the ground beneath my feet, and sent the statue into a vibrating fit. Rebel clung to the founder's neck for dear life, but the statue held, though the Rhyhorn's horn dug deep into the founder's leg. The Rhyhorn stood there for a second, dumbfounded. Then, with a quick exasperated sigh, his legs fell out from underneath him and he fainted.

Everything around us was quiet for a while, not a soul made a sound. Rebel climbed down from the top of the statue and looked at the Rhyhorn, shocked. With a single toe he nudged at the Pokémon. The Rhyhorn twitched briefly and grunted, making Rebel jump back in shock. But the Rhyhorn's eyes stayed closed. Rebel didn't move again until the Rhyhorn made a loud snoring sound that shook the statue from top to bottom.

Rebel looked at me. We locked eyes for a second before we started to laugh hysterically. He ran over to me and jumped into my open arms. I nearly fell back from exhaustion and pain, but Tris held me up with a supportive arm.

"We did it! Rebel we did it!" I yelled. He chattered happily. Then we weren't the only two making noise. The crowd around us erupted into cheers. I stopped, looking around at the people who were making their way toward us, looks of disbelief and gratitude on their faces. Tris pulled me tighter to his side as they swamped around us, yelling and cheering. Rebel was still chattering happily, unfazed by the crowd that pressed in on us from all sides, asking me questions and calling out congrats and thanks. I looked up at Tris, bewildered. He had a hard look on his face.

"Why don't you say we get out of here Bernie Girl?" he asked. I nodded and hid beneath his strong arm, allowing him to steer me away from the crowd.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, when he joined me at our little sanctuary, we barely talked. He nodded his head at me where I sat with a book and he took his usual place at his tree, our old roles restored. Well, not completely. There was something different in the air this time. There was a mutual respect, which was new. But there was something deeper too. A new connection that wasn't there before. It was stronger than any other relationship I'd ever had, except maybe with Tris. But it was different from my connection with Tris. While I lived my pain and humiliation alongside him, Tris was someone I needed to protect. I couldn't show him just how scared I was of the bullies. With Echo it was different. He saw how vulnerable I was, saw the very depth of the hurt I felt, and I saw the same in him. We shared our hurt with each other, and though I didn't acknowledge to him in words, I think he knew how connect I felt to him because of our shared struggles. So we sat alongside each other, not really talking, but just sharing the feeling of mutual struggle. This was how we spent the next week.

By his third week in town I couldn't help it. Sharing mutual feelings of hurt wasn't enough for me. I was intrigued by him, I needed to have a conversation. The little taste I had had of him during his monologue was not enough. That speech was the epitome of who Echo really was, a bitter, ruined soul trying to make his life better and move on past the bullies. This was a stage in my life I'd not yet reached. I was still snagged within the claws of the bullies, stuck behind the bars of the institution that was school. I was not so brave as him to leave my family and everything I knew to pursue an unknown future. I needed to delve deeper into that place that was Echo's mind to know what it was to be free.

That Monday I sat, bookless, waiting for him. When he walked into our little place he took one look at me and walked toward where I sat. He slid down the shed and sat down beside me. We sat there in silence for a while. I wasn't sure what to say. How does one begin a conversation? The only conversation I'd ever had with someone not related to me was with Tris, and he was so different from Echo. He wasn't absolutely gorgeous first of all, as I finally came to accept Echo was, and Tris was like my little brother-talking to him came second nature to me. This person was nothing like him. Not in physical features, not in mind, and certainly not in the relationship I wanted to have with him. I'd never felt the overwhelming urge to kiss Tris before.

"There goes that face again. Your thinking face. What are you thinking about?"

How to start a conversation with you." I decided being blunt was the best way to start this. He laughed quietly to himself.

"Well…what do you want to talk about?" He asked, a smile on his lips. I thought about that for a second. What did I want to talk about with a person as interesting as him…

"Everything." I thought out loud. And that was how we began. For the next two weeks we talked about anything and everything. At first we stayed with the topics of bullies, but eventually I had enough. I wanted something to cheer me up, not make everything worse. So I asked him about his adventures. I saw the hesitation though, and asked him what his qualms were.

"It's just that…everyone always asks me that question. It used to be fun but…" I understood without him saying anymore.

"Then don't tell me what you tell them. Tell me about the different parts of your adventure. Like how you got your Pokemon." And he did. He explained all the things people wouldn't necessarily ask him about. Like the feeling each new captured Pokemon brought to his heart, and how the feeling strengthened with every second together, growing stronger as one. He told me what it was like to almost loose a Pokemon, along with the grief and guilt that came with it. My favorite part was when Echo explained to me the different places he'd been. The valleys of flowers in Floaroma, the soaring skyscrapers of Jubilife, the enormity of the contest hall in Hearthome, and the almost unbearable cold of Snowpoint. I hung on his every word, living the beauty and adventure of a travelling life vicariously through him.

But his own voice didn't satisfy him. He asked about me quite a few times. He wanted to know everything about my life, and I wasn't sure what to tell him. All I could think of were the bad things. Like my need to organize and clean, or my fear of Pokemon. He seemed very interested in that. He asked me plenty of questions, trying to grasp how I felt when it came to them.

"So, you love Pokémon, love what they can do and what they stand for, but you're still scared of them?" He paused to look at me. I only shrugged, not sure what more to say. "You know it's all in your head right? Most Pokémon don't want to hurt you. I can attest to that. They're loving, kind creatures." I just shrugged again, looking down at my interlocked hands. It was quiet for a while as he thought about what I'd said and I soaked in my self-pity induced misery. I hadn't expected him to understand of course, I was an oddity, unlike anyone else. Even though we had something shared, it was not enough to make him totally understand the inner workings of my mind. No one could. Not unless they had the same infliction as me, and who else was stupid enough to be frightened of Pokémon?

"Hey. I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you cry." I looked up at him, mystified. Sure enough, when I brought my hand up to wipe beneath my eyes, it came away damp. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"It's not your fault. I was just thinking," I mumbled.

"Do you ever wonder if that's your problem." Then he pursed his lips when he saw the look on my face. "No, I'm serious. Maybe you think too much. Maybe you should just do. You, just for once in your life. I mean, if all this Pokémon stuff is just in your head, then don't think about it. Just run up to a Pokémon and hug him, or pet her. You don't even have to do anything with Pokémon. You can just leave. Leave town, head for Jubilife. It's not that far away, and, if you have a trainer with you, not dangerous. There are so many opportunities there for you. Do you know how many Patisserie shops there are in Jubilife? I've seen your work, you can make it big in the best of them." I couldn't help but be flattered. My cheeks burned red. But I sighed.

"I just…can't," I whispered. This was not the answer he was looking for.

"What if you left with me?" The intensity in his stare had my heart beating wildly.

"I don't know..."

"Come on Bernie! It would be fun. You wouldn't just have to hear about all these places, you could come see them! You would be with me every step of the way…I can keep you safe." It would have been so easy to say yes. To just disappear in the night with him, and travel for the first time in my life. The Pokémon Gods know my mother and grandmother would not protest. They'd wanted me out of the house for years now, trying to get the little birdy to fly on her own. They would be ecstatic to finally see I was taking a chance, even if I disappeared without their knowledge. My brother was the same. He thought staying in Twinleaf was unhealthy for me. And it was, I had to admit that. But there was still the bake shop, and Dan who needed me there, and Tris would be all alone, abandoned by his best friend, and… I shook my head, too afraid to say a word to him. Echo looked away, frustration coloring his face. But he didn't press me. For the rest of his stay we avoided the topic and went back to the easy leisurely conversations.

But it couldn't last forever. Too soon, a month after returning to Twinleaf, he had to return to his true home. The only place he would ever be happy was on the road. I knew that I really did, but for so long he was the only good thing in my life. Our hidden little conversations, kept from the knowledge of the rest of Twinleaf, kept me going. They brought joy to my life. But I knew Twinleaf was not where he belonged. On our last day together, in our little sanctuary, neither of us sat. We just stood there, looking at each other, not sure how to say good bye.

"Thinking about how to do this, huh?" Echo said looking at my face with a little grin. He reached up and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm gonna miss seeing that face," he whispered, making me blush bright red. I wanted to tell him to stay, that he could see my face everyday, but I knew it was futile. And it was unfair of me to ask that of him. So I didn't. I kept it all to myself.

"I have something I want to give you." He pulled hi backpack to his chest and riffled through it for a bit. Finally he pulled a little crystal object out, and asked me to stretch out my hands. He placed the crystal between my palms and I stared at it in awe.

"What is it?"

"A Time Flower. It's very old and from very far away. They say that it traps moments of time inside."

"Moments...of time?"

"Yep. There are certain people who have the power to see these moments...I can't...not yet anyway." I stared at it, turning it this way and that. It sparkled in the auburn light of the setting sun and sent a little jolt of energy through my skin. The amount of aura in it was intense. "It's a little piece of my adventure that is now yours."

"I...don't know...I mean...thank you." I pulled the little crystal flower to my chest and looked up at him.

"And so the time comes...how about we keep it simple?" He said. There was a little sparkle in his eye when he leaned toward me. With the motion I felt my aura rattle and pull toward him. For a brief second I saw his aura. It was huge and bright yellow and proud looking, waving gracefully. I closed my eyes and just allowed myself to feel. For the first time, and the last time, I kissed Echo, and it was absolutely heaven. I felt our Auras entwine, tightly and knot together. In that second I knew no matter how far we were from each other, our souls could not be torn apart. But too soon, he knew he had to leave. We could both hear the going away celebration a mile away in town square. He leaned away from me and looked me in the eyes.

"Well, my little violet eyed beauty, if you ever want to see me, just take a chance and look for me." I didn't respond, he already knew my answer. It would never happen. He smiled a sad smile, but I saw the excitement in his eyes. He was ready for his next journey. Then he disappeared, leaving me wishing I was stronger.


	11. Chapter 11

"Bernadette, hold still." I couldn't help the involuntary twitch that went through my body as my mother put more pressure on that spot on my back. I held in a yell. My hand squeezed Tris' arm tighter. His hand was nearly blue but he didn't complain. Rebel was watching me with a concerned expression. Every time I yelled he jumped up and chattered angrily at my mother. I tried my hardest to keep the next scream in as my mother continued to clean the wound, but a little whimper escaped. Rebel chattered under his breathe and twitched along with me.

"It's okay Rebel. I'm fine." But my hand tightened again around Tris' arm as my mom applied the bandages. "See. All done." I turned to show him the bandages on my back. He looked at them for a second and gently placed a hand on them looking sad. Then I smiled, knowing what he was thinking. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who jumped in front of you. You're the one who saved me in the end." I told him. He looked at me stubbornly, then held up one hand. I looked at it for a second then released Tris' arm. I put my hand in Rebel's and squeezed. "You're right. We beat him together." Rebel smiled up at me and I smiled back.

"Is she okay?" Jared ran into the room looking a little out of breath. He beelined for where I was sitting on the operating table and wrapped me in a tight hug. I cringed and cried out when he agitated the wound on my back. Rebel threw a fit, chattering angrily at Jared. He was quick to release me from his death hold and just as quick to apologize.

"Sorry Bernie...Rebel." He nodded to Rebel sheepishly as the Chimchar climbed into my lap. Rebel glared up at Jared, daring him to touch me again. Tris chuckled.

"You have to chill Reb," Tris said nonchalantly. Rebel looked up at him from my lap and chattered angrily at him then leaned back and hugged me tenderly.

"What are you doing here Jared?" I asked.

"I heard about what was going on. They were saying that some girl and her Pokémon were thrown into really bad shape because of a Rhyhorn. I didn't think much of it until they said that the girl was fighting with a scarred up Chimchar. I knew I had to come over here and make sure you were okay." He looked me up and down then, really taking me in, bruised and bloodied as I was. "You really are beat up huh?"

"Wait, people in Sandgem already know about Rebel and the Rhyhorn?" I asked.

"Well, when said Pokémon rage through two towns and destroy tons of property, that generally tends to get the attention of people." I blinked up at Jared, not one hundred percent understanding. "He and that Rhyhorn destroyed a lot of the forest and half of Sandgem Town, not to mention all the damage in Twinleaf too. Nothing too expensive caught fire thankfully, but there was a lot of destruction otherwise." I looked down at Rebel in astonishment. This little guy caused that much ruin? What happened to the scared Chimchar who was crying in my bedroom because of a little piece of pottery? It'd only been a few months since the first time we met. Since then we'd not done a speck of training, and yet he was able to hold his own one-on-one with a Rhyhorn. I always felt so close to Rebel, but I kept forgetting there was still so much I didn't know about him.

"What were you thinking Rebel? I mean I'm irresponsible but not even I would've done that," Tris said. He was leaning against the cot, Rebel between the both of us. Rebel looked up at him with a guilty look on his face, both arms still wrapped securely around me.

"What _were_ you thinking Reb?" I asked him, my voice softer than Tris's. He looked up at me, guilt on his face, then reached a hand under his kerchief. He pulled what looked like a flower from underneath. He held it out to me, and I looked at it with astonishment. "Where did you get this?" I whispered.

"That's a Time Flower, right? How the hell did he get it? I heard you can only find those near the Tree of Beginning, but that's regions away in Kanto." But I knew that already. I knew everything there was to know about this flower. I knew what it was named, I knew what it was used for, I knew every single folklore, and myth about it. I researched this flower ten times over trying to find the meaning behind it, trying to find out why that certain someone had given it to me.

Why had Rebel gone to get it? I knew exactly why. I knew he'd seen me the last few weeks, looking at the flower's painting on my wall, holding a little shard of the original flower Echo'd given me. I spent hours pondering just what Echo had meant by giving it to me, and the meaning behind his parting words. To Rebel it must have looked strange. The brooding, the long nights just staring at a single painting, deep in thought, the way I suddenly lost my temper with him. He knew there was something off with me, and this was his way of trying to make me happy.

Now that I thought about it, what had I been thinking about or doing that night, when he'd slunk off silently into the darkness? Wasn't I still caught up in my daydreams and memories, remembering the distant past and a far off person? Hadn't I been so absolutely absorbed with my own thoughts, gazing so intently at my painting, that I sat for a full eight minutes, a soup spoon raised half way to my lips?

"So the Rhyhorn was after the Time Flower. Where did he get it?" Jared mused. I reached down to take the flower from Rebel, so absorbed with my thoughts that I just barely registered the chatting of my family in the background. It felt nice to have it in my hands again. The crystal was slightly warm from Rebel's body heat, and when I picked it up and raised it into the air, it reflected the light, creating a little rainbow. I stared up at it in amazement, my throat tightening again from memories I could no longer repress. I looked down at Rebel, his little eyes staring at the crystal flower in amazed wonder.

"You took this from the Rhyhorn didn't you? You know we have to give this back, right?" Rebel looked at me as I handed the Time Flower back to him. "It doesn't belong to us," he downcast his eyes, ashamed.

"Madison, we have a problem." It was Nurse Joy. She was standing in the room's doorway, looking, with frenzied eyes, straight at my mother.

"What happened?" my mother jumped up, her little body looking so much bigger all of a sudden as she filled up with urgency. My mother was Nurse Joy's right hand woman in Twinleaf's little hut of a Pokémon center. She got done whatever had to be done, and she did it fast. My mother was practically another Nurse Joy—without the heritage. Nurse Joy glanced over at me, Rebel still firmly planted on my lap.

"It's the Chimchar. Officer Jenny is here to take him away." My heart raced.

"Take him away, where?" I asked. Nurse Joy looked at me again, pity spread across her face like tar.

"She said that the towns people have had enough of his pranks. This last event was the final straw. She's coming to… _do_ something about him," Nurse Joy announced.

My mouth opened in a little 'o' and I wrapped Rebel in my arms. There was that phrase again, the phrase my mother used just a few weeks ago. _They were about to do something about him, and you don't even want to know what that means._ I think I had a good idea of what it meant. The ultimate punishment, sterilization. It wasn't like a human where you could just lock up pokemon when they behaved poorly, pokemon were harder to contain, and had to be handled differently. But he was just a kid, probably not even a year old! How could they possibly want to put down a baby! Rebel was looking up at me, shocked, his grey eyes looking more than a little fearful though he couldn't possibly know what all this meant. Then again he was a smart little Chimchar. He still held the Time Flower in his hands, his fingers biting into the glass-like otherworldly material. That stupid thing was the whole reason Rebel went into a rampage through two towns.

 _This is all my fault._

"How long do we have?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. I have my Chanseys holding her up right now, but that can't hold her for long." Her sentence was punctuated by Officer Jennie's frustrated voice. It sounded as if she were right down the hall.

"We have to get Rebel out of here," Tris said.

"Not just Rebel," I said. I moved Rebel so that he could sit on my shoulder. Getting the hint he climbed up and wrapped a hand around my neck so he wouldn't fall. I jumped off the table, trying my best to ignore the pain jarring up my spine, and reached over to grab a pokeball from my brother's belt. "I'm borrowing this!" I yelled, and dashed out of the room hoping beyond hope that Officer Jennie was not already outside the door.

The hallway was clear, only medical supplies where in my way. The Pokémon center wasn't very large, so this hallway only had one other room. But there was still no guarantee he was in here. I threw the door open, running into the room with full force and hoped beyond hope that I could be lucky for once in my life. I was.

Laying on a steel table in the middle of the room was a Rhyhorn. The Ryhorn that Rebel and I battled. He was still very much out, snoring soundly actually, and yet as soon as I stepped through the door I froze. Memories of him running straight for me filled my head, his large intimidating horn aimed right at my chest. And I heard him grunting, loud and frustrated. Frustrated at us because we took something that was his, that was all. It was our fault he was in this state, out cold like a rock, and in this position, his life on the line.

Chimchar squeezed my shoulder encouragingly and chattered in my ear. He nodded his head when I glanced at him. _I believe in you._ That nod said it all.

I walked closer to the bed as I heard someone enter the room. It was Tris, and I was instantly comforted. Between Rebel and Tris nothing could go wrong. I was safe, and this creature was harmless. Right now he was in more danger than I was. I held up the pokeball and pressed the little white button in the center, activating the ball, then I tossed it into the air, just above the Rhyhorn. The ball paused in midair and a thin red beam escaped from it as it opened. The beam engulfed the Rhyhorn, shrinking his body and absorbing him. The ball clinked closed and fell onto the table, now quivering side to side. One. Two. Three. The pokeball stopped and stood in place a final satisfied beam coming from it, as I watched in wonder.

"Bernie Girl, did you just catch your first Pokemon?" Tris asked.

"Yeah. I think I did," I said, shocked. I picked it up, holding it tenderly in my hand. Rebel's hand appeared over the ball, and he chattered with approval in my ear. "Yeah…I think I really did."

Officer Jennie's voice got louder in the hallway and her screams traveled through the door. "Get that tubby pink thing away from me! If I see even one more band aid I'll shove it up Nurse Joy's…"

"We have to go." I said, shrinking the ball down and rolling it into my pocket. I grabbed Tris' hand and ran like hell.

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 **And that's a rap! Thank you so very much to everyone who's read to this point-I know it was probably pretty difficult to do since this story didn't have very much action going on! Though this is the end of Episode 0, this is NOT the end of Bernie, Rebel and friends-this is just the beginning. I have another few iterations planned (maybe three or four "seasons" worth), and as soon as I have them all planned out with a few thousand words typed, I'll have more chapters up. I think it may take about a month or so, so keep your eyes peeled for the next installment-Ribbons: Season One. I will try to keep updates on my progress on the 12th chapter of this story.**

 **I really hope you all enjoyed this story! Please review! Any and all love or criticism is accepted. 3**

 **Bye for now!**


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